


Don't Leave Me

by impossiblytenaciouswitch



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Death, Loss, One-Shot, Torture, Violence, pretty graphic I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblytenaciouswitch/pseuds/impossiblytenaciouswitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the reveal that Bertholdt and Reiner are the colossal and armored titans, they are captured and tortured for information. <br/>A short one-shot told from Bertholdt's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Leave Me

He hadn't seen the daylight in a long time. How long he had no idea, days had melted together into one long blur of pain and fear, falling in and out of consciousness. Time had no meaning. He had no meaning. Nothing had meaning. Not anymore. Their purpose meant nothing.

He clutched his hands to his face, his once long, lean body thin and wasting away, covered in dirt and dried blood. His body shook, out of hunger, fear, sadness, guilt. He feared for Reiner. He had no idea where they'd taken him, no idea what they were doing to him. He could almost taste the other man's screams if he didn't keep his thoughts at bay. No. Reiner wouldn't scream. Not Reiner. No matter how bad it got, no matter how painful, he wouldn't scream. He'd stay strong, he wouldn't give anything away.

They'd tortured him, slicing and cutting, taking off fingernails and fingers. Everything grew back, everything healed, but he still felt all the pain. One day they'd pulled out all of his teeth, one by one, slowly, until they were all gone, blood pouring over his chin, tears streaming down his cheeks, his cries of pain lost, his throat too dry and hoarse to make a sound. Another day they'd gone for his eyes.

Every time they asked the same questions. _How many are you? What are your plans? How long? Why have you done this? Why are you doing this? Why? Why? Why?_

_Do you know how much blood you have on your hands?_

_Did you feel nothing?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

_Why?_

And every time he just sobbed until no more tears came, until there was not a drop of liquid in him.

It was funny. It had been a joke during his fellow trainees how much he sweated. And here he was, skin dry, lips chapped, mouth like sandpaper.

Faces, happy, smiling, pooled in his mind. Thomas, Marco. Dead. Because of him.

Because of him. Because of what he was, what he'd done.

They had been so happy then, him and Reiner, and Annie too, she must have been happy as well. They'd made friends, laughed and joked. They'd been trusted, seen as older brother's even, liked and respected. And they'd repaid it by killing them. _Do you know how much blood you have on your hands?_ He stared at his hands in the gloom. No amount of water could wash the blood away. All of those deaths were his fault, and he wondered what it was all for. Was it worth it? Would any of this mean anything?

He focused on Reiner in his thoughts. He'd always been his rock, keeping him sane, keeping him together. He couldn't do this without him. Reiner. Strong, dependable, solid. There to cheer him up when he was sad, to keep him on track, to stop him dwelling on what they had had to do.

"Reiner."

His voice was rough and quiet, barely audible even in the dark, silent cell. Saying his name helped, and he would say it over and over again when he was left to heal, willing the blond there as if his thoughts could transport him into the cell.

"Reiner..."

Where was he? He hadn't seen him since they'd been captured, but he was certain their captors were keeping him somewhere close by, torturing him for information like they did him. He was probably sat in his dank cell, steam rising off him as he healed, as he grew back a limb, or his fingernails. Or his eyes.

Bertholdt slept fitfully, and only when he gave into exhaustion. Nightmares and screams filled his head as he dozed, the faces of the dead, Reiner, Annie, all swirling around never resting. He saw Armin, small, blond and smart, his clear blue eyes staring blankly up at him, dead to the world. Jean, bitten in half...or was it Marco? Krista...sweet little Krista lay in the dirt, blood pooling around her...

It was like this every time he closed his eyes, so he tried to keep them open as much as possible.

He heard the door open, and a face-less person walk in. He shuffled up against the wall, expecting to feel the cold cut of a knife, or the sizzling heat of a red-hot poker singing his skin, but nothing. Wincing out of habit, he glanced up to see two other people carrying something large into the room, dumping it on the ground in front of him. Once they'd dropped it with a thud, they left, leaving the original person with Bertholdt and the large, lumpy shape on the floor. In the dim light, he couldn't make out what it was, but he thought he saw something light, maybe blond hair...

The guy reached down, seizing the neck of Bertholdt's' shirt, dragging him across to the shape and dumping him next to it, lowing a lamp down so that he could see. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust, but when they did...

It was Reiner.

His heart stopped, and he reached forwards, arms shaking, to shake him.

"Reiner..."

He wasn't moving. His skin was cold. No, he was just unconscious, he'd come round in a minute.

His thin fingers dug into the tattered fabric that had once been Reiner's shirt.

"Wake up..."

He wanted to scream and shout, but his voice wouldn't work, catching in his dry throat, coming out husky. This was just a nightmare, Reiner was fine, Reiner was alive in his own cell, having nightmares of his own. Wake up.

Why wasn't he healing? Why wasn't he waking up?

The guy stood behind him didn't say anything, he didn't move. What was he doing? But Bertholdt didn't care, he needed Reiner to wake-up, to hold onto him and tell him he would get them out...

Bertholdt's hands moved up to clutch at Reiner's face. He looked like he was asleep, dreaming something pleasant, like he was far away where no one could hurt him. But his skin was cold and pale, almost waxy, like it wasn't real. He shifted his hand round under Reiner's neck to lift his head, and as he did so he felt a sticky gap at the nape of his neck, almost as if someone had cut...

Realisation hit him cold and icy, he felt his stomach drop away and an endless dark chasm filled the space around him. It hurt, but he felt numb at the same time.

No, not Reiner. Not him.

Dragging Reiner's shoulders up, he cradled him in his lap, holding him close. His voice sounded too loud in the silent room, too cracked and desperate.

"Reiner..."

Silent, tearless sobs wracked his body.

"Don't go..."

He had so much he'd wanted to say.

"Don't leave me..."

He'd thought Bertholdt had  loved Annie, he thought his love had been unrequited.

The silent man rapped sharply on the door, and the two men came in, leaning down to grasp Reiner's lifeless body.

"NO! NONONONO REINER! DON'T...DON'T...DON'T LEAVE ME!"

He  clawed desperately at the men lifting Reiner away, but he was too weak, and he could do nothing when the other man seized him and threw him back against the wall.

He turned his face to see Reiner's body being dragged from the room, door slamming behind them.

"Now then."

The man left with him spoke, but Bertholdt didn't move or do anything, just stared at the doorway, numbness spreading through him. Reiner.

"Now you have no-one. Now it's just you and me. And you will tell us everything we want to know."

Bertholdt slumped down, empty, numb. He was engulfed in darkness, like the only light he'd had had been ripped away from him.

The man's words meant nothing to him.

He was nothing.

His guilt which had consumed him was gone, replaced by the spreading listlessness of loss. Whatever they had intended to do to him, however they tried to used Reiner's death, none of that mattered. It wouldn't work. They had taken away the only thing that had mattered to him. He felt something dig into his skin and a liquid pouring down, but he didn't care. He was more broken now than any amount of physical damaged could compare, and he lay there, letting the blackness creep around him, looking out for the flare of light which would let him know he had found Reiner again.

**Author's Note:**

> I was practically crying when I was writing this, why did I think this was a good idea?  
> I'm so sorry Bertholdt!


End file.
